


Silent Knights and Freed Princesses

by impermeable_azul



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Action/Adventure, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fantasy, Hurt/Comfort, Memories, Post-Canon, Recovered Memories, Reincarnation, Repressed Memories, Slow Burn, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29120163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impermeable_azul/pseuds/impermeable_azul
Summary: Calamity Ganon is gone, but so is the Hyrule Link and Zelda once knew. Now that they've fulfilled their roles, they struggle to know where they belong after evil is vanquished, especially with the weight of their past still pressing down on them. There are memories still forgotten and things still left unspoken. Together, they have to decide what it means to be free.(aka I suck at summary, and I was frustrated by the lack of hugs at the end of the game.)
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	1. Prologue

Wind whipped through Link’s hair and cloak as he fell. No paraglider caught any rush of air and hoisted him up. No fiery energy remained in his lungs to generate a protective shield. The grace he had been blessed with oozed helplessly to already broken skin and bones. Even if he hadn’t directed every spark of lightning he had into Ganon, Link doubted Urbosa’s gift would’ve been much aid in his situation.

He’d known the risks when he catapulted himself into the air, boosted by the very gusts Revali boasted in his time. If the worm brained Rito was right about anything, it was that Hylians didn’t belong in the sky. Sooner or later, Link would hit the ground. There wasn’t any other way. Link weakened Ganon plenty, but if he hadn’t destroyed the monster’s core, Ganon would live, and Link would fail. If Link failed, every sacrifice his friends and family had made would be for nothing.

Link flew and prayed to the goddess that his aim was true.

The boar-like beast that was calamity incarnate bellowed, and a second later a wave of blight slammed into Link.

He couldn’t see through the black swirling haze. It burned his nostrils; after getting a mouthful of the foul-tasting stuff, Link ground his teeth together. His paraglider snapped under the pressure. The bow of light tore from his hands.

With a shuddering sob, Link closed his eyes. _I’m sorry, Zelda._

And that was when the light swallowed everything. He heard Ganon’s howls and understood them too. The heat seared through his armor, his clothes, his skin. Was this how Link died? Rescued from the darkness only to be incinerated by the light? Something pulsed in his left hand like a second heartbeat. Oomph oomph oomph. A high-pitched whine filled the air. He wanted to cover his ears, but he couldn’t move. He was blinded and paralyzed and deafened, left totally to the mercy of the light. Link waited to stop, to blur from existence just as quickly and definitively as Ganon.

 _Link,_ she whispered, _Open your eyes._

Fingers fluttered over his cheek and jaw. Something pressed against his chest. He obeyed the voice and looked up into eyes the color of the sea. Her long blonde hair fell over her shoulders, piling gently atop his armor. Her white, sleeveless dress looked as if it were new and freshly pressed, and her clean skin seemed to glow with the remnants of the quickly dying light. She was radiant, brighter than any of the flames still burning across the field.

“I’ve watched you,” she whispered, her fingers caressing his bruised face. Link couldn’t tear his eyes off of hers. “I’ve witnessed every struggle, every trial. I never lost faith in you… hero of Hyrule.” The smallest of smiles crept across her face, the sun breaking momentarily out from behind clouds before it slipped once more from her face. “Do you remember me?”

Muscles groaning, Link roped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug, croaking, “Yeah.”

The Champion of Hyrule and the Princess Who Sealed Calamity Ganon clung to one another in the burning Hyrule Field, and neither could tell if they shook from laughter and joy or tears and grief.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link falls off his horse, has an odd dream, and chats with Zelda about their next steps.

It rained the day Calamity Ganon was destroyed. Where raindrops met flames, the air shimmered and hissed. Heavy hooves sloshed through muddy puddles. Link stiffened as they rode by one of the cone-shaped stone machines he’d learned to fear, but the runes around its torso and the eye in the center of its head remained dark. He spurred Rhiannon on anyways, eager to escape its eyesight.

Princess Zelda sat snug against his front. Though it couldn’t be comfortable- Rhiannon’s saddle was only big enough for one rider -it didn’t keep her from sleeping soundly. Link didn’t blame her. After a century of taxing battle, shielding Link from certain death, and sealing away an incarnation of Demise, discomfort wouldn’t keep Link from a nap either. She slept like a rock, her breaths slow and deep. Link’s own body groaned in exhaustion, but he forced his eyes open. He’d slept for a hundred years; in return, he could stay awake for the few hours it would take to reach Riverside. Rhiannon huffed in annoyance at the mud.

Relief filled him when he saw the tall, colorful steeple in the distance. Paper mache, wood, and bright tarps wove and overlapped to form a large horse’s head atop the round tent-like structure. When he’d first stumbled on a stable, the horse head confused and amused him.

Now, that odd decoration meant safety.

The rain had driven most of the stable’s occupants inside, but a few guards and grooms stationed outside caught sight of the bloodied rider and horse as he neared. They squawked and rushed to assist him.

“Take her,” Link rasped. One of the guards reached up, and Link blessed him for the gentleness he showed in extracting Zelda from Rhiannon’s saddle. She didn’t stir.

“Were you caught in that strange blast?” a woman on Link’s left asked. He looked to her, and spots danced across his vision. Link brought a hand to his head, and then the world spun on its axis, and the ground surged up to meet him. Several voices cried out at once, but Link couldn’t decipher anything they were saying. The mud felt cool against his face.

He’d fallen. He hadn’t fallen off his horse since… since…

Hands gripped him, guiding him back to his feet. The same guard who’d spoken to him murmured comfortingly in meaningless refrains. He vaguely registered the grooms leading Rhiannon off towards the corral. _Zelda_. He found her a moment later, still in the arms of the same guard. Link relaxed and let himself be half-carried into the main tent.

It was over. They were safe.

The second Link’s head hit a pillow, he sank into the cool depths of sleep.

* * *

_Link._

_Link, look what I made you!_

A girl, blonde-headed and blue-eyed. A fishing rod with red and blue strips of color. The girl made him a fishing rod. No, wasn’t that supposed to be a boy? A boy with a choppy bowl-cut, shy but lion-hearted, the son of… someone.

Who was the girl then? Her laugh was like tiny little bells- _ring ring ring_ -

A shrill, blood-curdling scream.

_Link!_

* * *

Link jolted, and someone else yelped. Link stared at the man beside him, quickly recognizing the man’s short, ashy hair and stumpy nose. Spoone scowled, lowering the hands he’d raised in defense of himself. “Goddess, you startled me.”

Link grit his teeth together and tried to slow his breathing. A nightmare. That’s all it was. Just like most his memories, the nightmare teased at the edges of his mind and then slipped away. It still left a cold, uncomfortable sweat behind.

He scanned his surroundings in one quick sweep of the eyes. He lay in one of the line of beds the stable offered. Sunlight streamed into the tent through the drawn tent flaps on either side of the stable master’s box. Other than Spoone, the tent was mostly empty. Two children peered around their bed at Link. An off-duty guard snored quietly in her bed.

Zelda watched him from one of the wooden tables, fork half-raised to her mouth.

The tension in Link’s shoulders relaxed. He remembered. Ganon was gone. Zelda was safe. He collapsed back with a quiet groan.

Everything hurt. But not as much as it should’ve. Link remembered the scorching heat of Ganon’s attacks, first the blue rays stolen straight from the guardians and then the black and purple fire he breathed. Though Ganon never managed to cleave Link in two with the gigantic axe, the spears he’d summoned had managed to snag Link several times. Mipha’s healing had knit back together bone after bone, but her last gift could only go so far. Link felt at his face, and where he’d expected stitches or bandages, he only found smooth, unbroken skin. He wasn’t necessarily in real pain; he just… ached. _How?_

“I examined you while you were sleeping,” Spoone told him, sitting back down at his bedside. “You caused quite the ruckus last night, arriving covered in blood and muck. You acted half-dead.” Out of the corner of his eye, Link saw the young doctor’s nose jut into the air disapprovingly. “But other than a few scrapes and bruises, you’re entirely in one piece.”

It couldn’t have been Mipha’s gift. The battle with Ganon left Link completely drained of all four champions’ spiritual gifts. More importantly, they had warned Link that once their spirits moved on, so too would their powers. Ganon was gone, and so…

They were too. His friends, Mipha and Daruk. Urbosa, the strong Gerudo queen. Revali. The realization felt like a knife to the heart. He barely remembered any of them, and that gaping hole in his being throbbed. With Zelda in danger, he didn’t have the time to think about it, to grieve…

_I don’t have the time now either._ While she wasn’t in immediate danger, it was still Link’s duty to protect and serve the princess. That needed to be his focus.

Abruptly, Link sat up again. Spoone opened his mouth as if to scold Link but seemed to realize the futility of saying anything. He waved a dismissive hand and stalked off. Link wasn’t injured; Spoone said it himself. Link’s sore muscles tried to claim otherwise, but he ignored their protests. He found his armor and saddlebags beside the bed, wisely untouched. They hadn’t even dared to wash the stained and torn tunic. Link paused upon seeing it. _Well, it_ was _blue._ He set it aside for a dull brown one instead.

The master sword lay propped against the bedpost, still sheathed, and utterly normal looking. If one ignored the tangible sense of age and power that radiated off of it. Link belted it around his waist.

When he turned, he found Zelda watching him, the hint of a smirk on her face.

She’d changed her clothes. Somehow, she’d acquired an outfit more in line with the princess he remembered. She wore a forest green tunic, dark brown trousers, and a pair of knee-high leather boots. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into her signature half-down crown braid. With that slightly haughty expression, she was a memory come to life.

Almost. She was the same person, but people changed and grew over time. And a lot more time had passed for her than it had for him. Something about her eyes bothered him, but the more he looked, the more he thought her expression was just off entirely.

She patted the stool beside hers. It was an ordinary gesture, a small one, and yet something caught in his throat.

She was here. She was alive and safe. And she wanted him to sit by her. He felt like he was dreaming. He grabbed his boots and sat beside the princess at her breakfast table. She finished the last of her eggs as he laced up his boots. She had mostly cleared her plate, save for the single piece of warm, brown, buttered toast. She always saved her toast for last. Link didn’t know why and not for any lack of memory. It was just one of the small details that made the princess who she was. The way she did her hair, the way she dressed, the way she ate her breakfast. Those things wouldn’t change no matter how much time passed.

But some things did change. Like the way her hand trembled ever so slightly.

In between bites of toast, she spoke. “I can explain your perfect health. While still emulating the Goddess, I took the opportunity to heal you as thoroughly as possible. I wasn’t sure how intact I would remain, and so I ensured my knight’s wellbeing first.” She paused, considering sticky fingers. With a shrug, she licked her fingers. “I’m glad I did. My powers dwindle even as we speak.”

Link frowned. In the past, Princess Zelda’s lack of powers had been a sore point, but now she spoke almost cheerfully about losing them. She met his eye with a strained smile. “My experiences over the years have certainly expanded my understanding of Power,” she said, quietly so as not to be overheard. “After ascending to quasi-godhood, I’m content to live a humble, _mortal_ life.”

In none of his memories did her eyes hold the shadows he saw in them now. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. When she looked at him again, the shadows were gone. _No- not gone. Hidden._

“Didn’t you wear that on your back?” she asked. At his blink, she gestured to his belt- the sword.

Understanding, Link shrugged in response. “It’s more practical this way.”

“Like verbal communication?” she suggested slyly. He shrugged again. To his understanding, he spoke even less in the days before the Calamity, but more than one person had commented on his sparse words recently. It was better to stay quiet, to let the people around him call him ‘stoic’ or ‘mysterious’. _Courageous_. If they never heard his thoughts, they wouldn’t know he was scared out of his mind.

Ganon was gone now. Was there any reason to stay silent?

What was there to say?

“Find some breakfast,” Princess Zelda ordered. “As you eat, I’ll determine our options and next step.” The smirk returned. “Like old times, right?”

He didn’t want to leave her side, but orders were orders, and they were past the point where he sat at her heel like a dog deaf to shooing. He also wasn’t going to pass up the chance to eat a hot meal.

A faint mist hung in the morning air. While the sun continued to rise in the open blue sky, the previous day’s rain had left the grassy plains pleasantly cool. Small pinwheels dotting the stable’s roof rotated in the lazy breeze. Horses of varying colors, sizes, and temperaments grazed or pranced about their corral. The beautiful morning drew the stable’s occupants out like moth to a flame. Though the stable was the only permanent structure for miles, several smaller tents surrounded it. The nomadic citizens of Hyrule gathered at the stables to buy, sell, and trade, take refuge in the safety offered by the stable’s professional guards, and find conversation and a hot meal around the fireplace. It was nowhere near the scale of Castle Town’s market day, but the feeling was much the same. Children played in the grassy meadows under the watchful eyes of their parents. Travelers rested their feet (or backsides) and took stock of their supplies. Guards wearing patchwork armor kept watch over the surroundings for any signs of danger or misplay (though maybe not as attentively as they should have).

Link approached the large black cauldron to the side of the stable. A man sitting nearby caught sight of him and waved him over. Ember, the stablemaster of the Riverside Stable, was a tall and skinny man with disproportionally large feet. His auburn hair was styled in the traditional stablemaster’s way with two short braids framing the face and a long tail in the back. His blue cap lay in his lap, leaving the sun to glint of the top of his head, bringing out the red in his hair.

“Glad to see you on your feet, son,” he said cheerfully. “If you’re looking for breakfast, the pot’s been scraped clean.” Link sighed inwardly and started to turn back. He wished he’d thought to grab his bag before coming out.

“Hold up,” Ember said, catching Link’s arm. “There’s still some stuff here; you just gotta cook it yourself. I wanted to talk to you anyways.”

Link hesitated. Zelda expected him back inside, but she’d told him to get breakfast. If she really needed him, nothing stopped her from finding him. Still, the idea of leaving Zelda alone made his skin crawl. He’d make a quick meal, humor Ember only for that long. Link picked a few of the large, white eggs out of the nearby basket and pulled a stool up to the cauldron.

Ember must’ve taken that as an invitation because his smile grew. “You scared us last night. Looked pretty beat up. Coli says she saw a big explosion north of here. Were you and that girl caught in that?”

Link didn’t look up from his sizzling eggs. It wasn’t too much of a stretch to think the “explosion” Ember referenced was Ganon’s destruction. Link wasn’t sure how to break the news to anyone, much less Ember, who was only an acquaintance. _By the way, I killed the monster that almost ended the world a hundred years ago. Then my hundred-year-old princess sealed him away permanently. We hope._

Ember sighed. “Thought you’d do that. Fine, keep quiet. Just tell me you didn’t kidnap her or something.” Link shot the stablemaster a fierce glare. The man’s hands went up. “Okay, just making sure. I didn’t think you were the sort, but…”

Link scooped his eggs onto a small plate, salted them, and marched away. If he didn’t think it was so, why would he ask that? They’d seen Link often enough in the past months at the Riverside Stable to be at least somewhat familiar with him. He’d even stopped one case of trafficking, though that had been at the Foothill Stable.

Zelda hadn’t moved from her spot. She raised a brow at him. “Who spat in your breakfast?”

Digging into his eggs, Link just shook his head. She wrinkled her nose at his plate. He didn’t originally want runny eggs, but they still tasted fine. Even if they needed more salt. And he would’ve liked some bread to sop up the leftovers. Maybe a few tomatoes for flavor.

“So,” Zelda cut into his daydreaming, “I’ve been thinking about what to do next.” Link didn’t look up, but she’d know he was listening. “The conclusion I’ve come to is that I have no idea what state the kingdom is in. While I was able to follow your path relatively well, I’ve been otherwise blind to the world and its people at large. My choices are as limited as my knowledge. If I’m remembering correctly, Kakariko Village still stands. We’ll travel there first to meet with Impa and inform her of Ganon’s fate. From there, we will go north to Zora’s Domain and eventually all four remaining cities.” Zelda hesitated. “They do… all stand?”

Link nodded. While Central Hyrule and the Hylians collapsed before Ganon and his forces, Greater Hyrule and its people had managed to withstand the onslaught. It helped that the bulk of the monsters and guardians concentrated around their new master. Castle Town, Mabe, Rauru, and other Hylian settlements stood little chance, but those living in the far corners of the kingdom had the opportunity to fight back. Even then, only the best protected settlements survived, the four main cities among them.

_Easier to fend off enemies when you live in a volcano_. A second after the bitter thought crossed his mind, Link felt a jab of guilt. It wasn’t just their environment that saved them; the sacrifice of the champions was a large factor in salvation.

Even he’d sacrificed himself for his home.

Zelda let out a breath of relief. “Excellent. Then, yes, that is what we’ll do. Such an extensive journey ensures I’ll have a thorough understanding of the kingdom’s circumstances and needs. I’ll require new supplies, a horse, and probably a bow in case of lingering monsters, and you…” Zelda trailed off.

When she didn’t continue, Link looked up from his plate. Her expression held the shadows again, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. She sat straight-backed with her hands folded in her lap, but the bow to her head ruined any sense of confidence she otherwise channeled. He’d seen her like this before, most often in conversations with King Rhoam.

He hated it.

“You don’t have to come,” she said. She controlled her tone so well, dipping into diplomacy as casually as a frog hopped into the water from land. “By all rights, you’ve fulfilled your duty as the bearer of That Sword, as a Champion. You have no obligation to me, especially with my kingdom in ruin and my birthright in question.”

Things changed with time. Kingdoms fell, people died, and dreams faded.

“You forgot a title,” Link reminded her. Zelda finally met his eyes, mouth pulling in confusion. “Royal knight.”

“I don’t see how that changes anything. It’s been a _century_. My kingdom-”

“Stands,” he interrupted. Was it improper to interrupt a princess? Probably as improper as taking her hand. Some instinctual part of him dropped him to his knees, but he didn’t break eye contact with Zelda. “I am a _royal_ knight, and you are still royalty. I swore to protect you with my life. How can I protect you if I’m not by your side?”

A thousand arguments jumped to mind. He saw it in her face, the stubborn twitch of her brow. Zelda was an intelligent woman and no stranger to debate. If she wanted, she could invalidate everything he said, and all with his own words. She had. More than once.

But because she was an intelligent woman, she didn’t try to argue on this. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I admit; I would be lost without my knight… without you.”

Mollified, Link found his seat, and Zelda launched into more planning. When all that remained on his plate was runny yolk, he didn’t hesitate to lick his plate clean. It was more convenient that way.

And it made Zelda smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Chapter Hype!  
> Sorry to those jarred by the length of this chapter. I worried about how short the prologue was, but at this point, I'm going with what feels right to me. I hope you enjoyed this first real chapter and are excited to see where things go.
> 
> Some author process notes if you care about that sort of thing:  
> 1\. I kept writing "Ganon's demise" for some reason. Ultimately, I decided this was far too punny to keep in an otherwise mostly straight chapter.
> 
> 2\. If you're familiar with Zelda lore outside of BotW, see how many references you can spot...
> 
> 3\. I'm really enjoying playing with Link and Zelda. Zelda especially has such depth in Breath of the Wild that is so intriguing and fun to play with. They're serious, but humor and light pokes through here and there.
> 
> 4\. I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm going to be diverging from canon lore a bit here. I am a history major and a writer, and the two combined means I have the urge to bring goofy, fantastical Zelda to a certain level of realism. There are villages throughout Hyrule in the game, but surely there are more than a few hundred people living there. Making the majority of Hyrule's citizens nomadic made sense to me considering the stables and travelers throughout Hyrule. Tell me what you think of my worldbuilding; I'm always open to suggestions too.
> 
> Many thanks for the kudos and comments.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Duo buy new horses, start their journey, and realize not all problems have been solved with the defeat of Ganon.

Link splurged and bought a pack horse. Though Rhiannon had carried his supplies for months, he always felt guilty for reducing her, an exceptional animal made to race across open fields and charge into hostile enemies, into a pack animal. After braving the ginormous, fire-breathing boar without a twitch of fear, he figured she earned some respect. It wouldn’t be fair to force Zelda’s horse to carry the whole burden. No horse the stable provided would be up to Rhiannon’s standard, but they were strong, sturdy steeds, and Zelda seemed pleased with her pick anyways.

Pockets emptied, they made off with two broad-shouldered stallions Zelda deemed Xanthos and Arion. The names made Link snort.

Zelda squinted at him around Xanthos’ nose. “What? Those are good names.”

Link eyed Rhiannon’s hoof, but the grooms had done their job. She was clean, fed and watered… and pampered. One night, and he swore her belly rounded out just a bit more. They’d even braided her mane.

“Link.” Zelda’s tone flattened. “They’re _good_ names.”

“They’re pack horses,” he muttered. Not to say they were _bad_ horses but giving them such pompous names was like naming a garden hoe after the Master Sword. He let Rhiannon’s foot down and patted her back. She bumped against him gently, impatiently hurrying him. Forget that only yesterday they’d fought the end of the world- she wanted back on the road _now_.

“So? What would you have named them?” Link looked at the princess. Her green eyes were narrowed; her arms were folded. The image of a displeased child crossed his mind, and he had to fight not to smile. He pretended to consider, glancing at the two brown and white dappled horses.

“Beef and Carrots.” As Zelda spluttered (because _those were stupid names, Link, and how dare he insult_ her _horses, and of course he’d name them after food_ ), he reached for Rhiannon’s tack.

And paused, looking at the faded purple bridle in his hand, a bridle he used for months… and one that didn’t belong to him. The bridle, the saddle, even Rhiannon by all rights, belonged to Zelda. The Sheikah slate clipped to his belt, the diary hiding in his bags- none of it was his. She was back now, standing right there; wouldn’t she appreciate her property returned to her? He’d collected her things with the intention of giving them back, but now his hand tightened around the dyed leather possessively.

A hand fell on his forearm, startling him. Sea green eyes blinked up at him. “Link, you were staring off into space. What’s wrong?”

_Don’t be selfish. They’re hers_. Link swallowed, but he pressed the bridle into her hands. “I have… some of your things.” Zelda looked down at the bridle, brushing her thumb against one of the gold pins. She looked at Rhiannon, calculating eyes comparing to memory the mare’s color and build, the slope of her back, the shape of her nose and legs. A beautiful horse, wild in temperament at times but with a gallop as smooth and weightless as flying.

He’d chased her down for Zelda.

“Llamrei’s grandchild?” Zelda guessed. Link nodded. Her eyes softened. “It’s good to know he survived. I know he’s just a horse, but I was fond of him.” She held her left hand out. “Give me my Sheikah slate.”

Link unclipped the slate, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut. Losing the slate wasn’t so bad- though useful, it still intimidated him a bit, and it banged awkwardly against his leg. But losing Rhiannon…

He almost dropped the bridle when Zelda shoved it back in his hands. “I’m not stealing your horse, idiot. Stop dawdling- at this pace, we won’t make it to East Post until tomorrow.”

“But-”

“That is an _order_ , Hero,” Zelda declared grandly, hoisting her new saddle onto Xanthos’ back. It took some effort; her arms trembled under the weight of the heavy cloth and leather. “Did you or did you not swear fealty to me?”

Link hesitated, but Rhiannon nudged him again. With the princess and the warhorse against him, he accepted defeat with more than a little relief. The unease he felt lessened as he relaxed into the motions of tacking up Rhiannon. At first, she’d fought him every step of the way, but by now she tempered her wildness under the condition that Link led her into plenty of adventure. He’d so far fulfilled that condition, and it didn’t look like he’d stop any time soon. Rhiannon wasn’t the most forgiving horse he’d bonded with, nor was she the most loyal, but Rhiannon embodied the fierce thirst for adventure Link tried to hide behind silence, training, and vows. If Zelda didn’t want her, Link was glad to keep her.

The sun burned high in the sky when the group finally trotted away from the Riverside Stable. The Hylia River rushed beside them, water lapping against its sandy banks. A blue-winged heron snatched up an unlucky bass and flapped away on powerful wings. The road led west, but both princess and knight agreed traveling directly south was the best option. While the roads were safer, cross-country would save time, and neither feared a bokoblin after Ganon. Rhiannon wanted to run the whole way there, but Link forced her to be content with loping in large circles around their party. Zelda laughed at them, unoffended by their distance. She couldn’t be very upset when she herself grew distracted by every passing animal, plant, and rock. She immediately threw herself into taking pictures with the slate.

“Link,” she called at one point, “Didn’t you access the shrines?”

Too far away for a nod to suffice, Link replied, “Yes.” He felt her eyes burn into him. Why was she cross now?

“That’s strange. I haven’t found any pictures of them. Didn’t you think to _document_ any of your findings?”

Link caught his eyes from rolling up. _Oh, Hylia._ He reigned Rhiannon in to ride alongside Zelda. She stamped her hooves in irritation but obeyed. “I was busy.”

Zelda scowled. “You were the first and only person to access a shrine in millennia, and you say you were too _busy_ to take even one picture? It’s not as though you don’t know how to; I count exactly seven here that are yours.” She glanced down at the slate. “A blurry one of your boot, a questionably close shot of a lynel… what in the goddess’ name is this?” She held the slate out for his viewing. He recognized the gaudy purple and pink bud immediately and groaned inwardly.

“Fairy fountain.”

She mouthed the words to herself and reconsidered the picture. The Great Fairies Link spoke to all claimed a past of respect and tribute from the Hylian people. Link didn’t remember ever paying tribute to a fairy fountain until recently, but he didn’t remember much of anything. Zelda’s renewed interest towards the picture probably meant she hadn’t personally visited one either. It definitely distracted her from her ire about the shrines.

It wasn’t as though Link intended to frustrate her. At the time, he was just more focused on staying alive, receiving the boon, and finding the next shrine. They were a means to an end, and that end was saving Zelda.

He wondered how she’d react when she inevitably quizzed him and discovered he had barely any information to give her. As if losing the majority of his past wasn’t enough, Link’s memories of the shrines were… fuzzy. A few images and sensations remained. A bright blue glow in a dark corridor. The smell of burning flesh as he thrust a spear into a guardian scout’s eye. Blinding panic as he clutched the edge of a swaying platform. He doubted the terrors he did remember would satisfy Zelda’s imaginative curiosity. She idealized the ancient Sheikah civilization fiercely, hand-waving the more concerning elements. Why, for example, would the guardians be programmed to ignore animals and insects and yet still monitor intelligent races? Why did the shrines, or whatever was in them, tamper with the memory of the one who entered them? Why had Purah and Robbie dug up weapon after weapon and struggled to find technology of other sorts?

_Beware..._

The hairs on the back of Link’s neck rose. A hissing voice curled around his consciousness, and the rushing water, the wind, and Zelda’s muttering all drained away until all he heard was the slide of scales and a faint, high-pitched ringing. _Those who do not know the danger of wielding power will, before long, be ruled by it._

**_Never_** _forget._

His vision scattered into senseless streaks. Light. Darkness. White. Black. White. Black. Blue.

_Blue._ Released from the prison of his own mind, Link stared directly into the eye of a live guardian. Only half of the runes around its circumference glowed, and several of its spidery legs were missing or lay broken and useless beside it. But the eye still glowed, and it stared directly at him. Noticing the spike of fear in her rider, Rhiannon danced underneath him.

“Link,” Zelda whispered, “What do we-”

The inner ring of the guardian’s eye turned red. A thin beam of red light shot out directly at Link, ending in a red dot in the center of his chest.

“Move!” Link shouted. Without hesitation, Zelda kicked her heels into Xanthos’ side. The horse bolted forward with a startled complaint. Rhiannon spun in the opposite direction, leaping out of the guardian’s aim. Their poor pack horse panicked, seeing its herd suddenly split, but to Link’s relief, it rushed after Zelda.

The guardian chased after Link.

How hadn’t they seen it? The topography was flat, trees and rocks sparse. They should’ve seen the guardian coming from miles away, not only when it landed right on top of them! Link whipped his bow free from his shoulder. He fumbled at his quiver, cursing when he dropped the first arrow. He didn’t worry about directing Rhiannon; she knew her role, and that was to move. He knocked the second arrow and twisted back in the saddle.

Though the guardian lacked half of its legs, it had no issue keeping up. The useless legs lashed like tails behind it. Metal scraped and sparked. Its movements jerked with more eagerness to hunt and kill than any natural predator Link had encountered. And he’d faced Calamity Ganon. Link aimed and fired. Aided by the guardian’s own speed, the arrow struck true, shattering through glass, but Link didn’t kid himself. It took more than a single decent arrow to take down a stalker. Rhiannon banked to the side, narrowly dragging him out of the way of the deadly fast laser beam. Only nineteen years of horsemanship kept Link in the saddle.

He drew back another arrow, the bow’s string straining against his fingers. This shot fared worse, glancing across the guardian’s rock-solid body. The runes pulsed with a pinkish color Link had come to recognize as Ganon’s possession. Ganon was gone, but it seemed his poison remained.

Just as Link reached for another arrow, the guardian froze in place. It didn’t slow or hit some invisible barrier; it just stopped in place. Yellow energy enveloped it, pulsing like a heartbeat.

A horse other than Rhiannon screamed in challenge. Behind the guardian, Zelda raced across the field, her hair streaming out like a cloak. His heart skipped several beats. _No_. She slowed, and he wanted to scream. What was she doing?!

Grabbing Rhiannon’s reigns with his free hand, he yanked his mount towards Zelda. Why wasn’t she fleeing? The pulses quickened by the second, losing control over the guardian. Zelda’s fingers flew over the slate. Her eyes weren’t even on the threat! Link slung his bow over his shoulder.

A second later, he gripped the hilt of the Master Sword. Steel sang free from its sheathe, and a fire surged up in Link’s chest. The world around him flared, shadow and color seeping away to give room to the thrumming power of the Sword. The chains around the guardian shattered, and its eye swiveled to find Zelda still fumbling behind it. It wouldn’t have her. It wouldn’t even have the chance to try and take her! He spurred Rhiannon, leaning forward to cut between the guardian and Zelda.

Rhiannon reared with a shriek as something blue and round soared past his shoulder. Link fought to stay mounted, to regain control. He kicked his heels into her side.

And for the second time in two days, Link ate dirt.

He scrambled to his feet just as three more of the blue orbs shot by like cannonballs. They exploded against the guardian, blowing chunks of black stone and glowing rune from its torso. A leg flailed through the air, skidding through the dirt only ten feet from Link. The guardian groaned and collapsed, sparking and twitching wildly. Two more bombs sent it to its grave for good.

“Are you mad?!” the princess screamed.

Heart still racing, Link stared at the destroyed guardian. _Blue orbs. Bombs_. _From the slate._ If Rhiannon did what she’d been told, they’d have intersected the bombs’ trajectory. How many had there been? Three, no- four. Four possible explosions that would’ve at best seriously injured him and his horse.

Link sank to his knees. _Hylia_. The influence of the Sword flickered, urging him up, towards the enemy, towards the princess… but he was suddenly so tired. Sheathing the Sword, he counted the nearing footfalls and braced for impact.

Two hands slammed against his back, and he caught himself with his hands before he smashed his nose against the ground. “I could’ve killed you!”

Link twisted and glared up at Zelda. Her face was flushed, round features tight and angry. “I told you to run,” he bit out. If she did what he ordered, he never would’ve been in danger. From her anyways.

“I have the slate; there was no reason not to help.”

He pushed himself to his feet, gesturing to the guardian. “These things aren’t toys, Princess. You could’ve been hurt.”

Something dark flashed across her features. Her face went tomato red as her hands curled into fists. She hissed when she spoke. “I’m not an invalid. What do you think I’ve done in the past century? _Nap_?”

The knight from her memories would’ve sealed his lips together and fallen silent. He would’ve bottled up his frustration and worry and embarrassment, only to release that pent-up emotion somewhere no one else could hear or see. Hundreds of hours spent training, fighting, inwardly screaming flicked past his mind’s eye. He should’ve dropped to his knee, bowed his head to her and submitted to her. He should’ve swallowed his words back. That knight did everything he could to fill the shoes of a hero, and heroes didn’t argue with princesses.

Some things went too far, and some words dug too deeply.

“No,” he snarled, “You were too busy playing god with my _life_.” He spun on his heel and stomped towards the guardian, waiting for a sharp retort or a hand at his arm. Neither came. _Who cares?_ She complained about his interference when all he’d ever done was protect her. He didn’t have to risk his life and trudge across the entire kingdom. He didn’t have to come back for her. He didn’t have to pull the Master Sword again. He could’ve left it all behind, kicked back in Hateno Village, and farmed for the rest of his life.

The rest of his year-long life before Zelda’s seal on Ganon broke. Then Calamity would’ve struck, destroying Hyrule, killing everyone.

_Killing Zelda_.

The weight of that nightmare dropped him to his knees. He braced his hand against the guardian’s hull and hoped the fall looked natural, as if he only dropped to investigate. Inside, his lungs revolted.

Of course, he hadn’t left her and not because of anything she’d done. No one forced him to do anything. Impa, Purah, Robbie- they applied the pressure, but none of them could’ve forced Link to do something he didn’t want to do. It had always been his choice. He pulled the Master Sword. He swore to protect Zelda. _He planted himself between her and the guardians, raising the Sword high as a scream filled his lungs…_

Link blinked, and the memory slipped away again. He stared at the empty husk of a single guardian, one Zelda killed with ingenuity and ancient technology. It was a good idea to use the bombs, but he didn’t know how she’d maneuvered them the way she did. He used them in low-stress areas to clear his path or ambush monsters, figuring that attempting to use them in battle was too slow- he was more likely to kill himself than anything else. Even after all these years, Zelda knew her technology frontwards and back. She’d done well.

_And I yelled at her_.

He glanced over his shoulder. She stood a distance away, the horses gathered around her like a living shield. Her back was to him. Her shoulders hunched forward, small but determined.

He’d said something so horribly cruel to her.

Link rested his head against the still warm stone of the guardian and took a quiet, deep breath. He kept his mouth shut for a reason. People wanted their heroes to be stoic and honorable. Not petty and mean. Unfortunately, it was easier to be cruel than compassionate in words. He needed to apologize… but how?

He didn’t find much he could salvage. Most of the screws or gears he would’ve taken had been damaged by the bombs, but searching the hull and legs of the guardian gave him the time he needed to think out an apology. Pocketing the handful of parts he’d collected, Link stood and returned to Zelda and the horse, his remorse prepared on the tongue.

Before he could say a word, Zelda said, “I’m sorry.” Link paused, thrown off. She leaned into Xanthos, hiding her face in his black mane. Link’s stomach ached when he realized she was sniffling. He did that- he made her cry. _Nice going, hero_.

“I should’ve considered the implications of my words,” she continued, voice muffled. “I wasn’t referring to… to the pool. Nothing that happened is your fault- or mine, I know, it just is the way it is. You didn’t know what I was doing, and you jumped to protect me. I overreacted, and I’m sorry.”

Why did it feel like she was apologizing for more than their spat? Link watched her, hoping she wouldn’t misinterpret his silence as anger. The speech he prepared had vanished, evaporated right out of his head, and he fumbled for the right words to say. Zelda always had something to say, always spoke her thoughts out loud to herself. She always knew exactly what to say to soothe Revali’s feathers or make Urbosa laugh like a hyena. She came up with the snappiest retorts, the most articulate speeches. She’d written the oaths each champion had taken and performed the ceremony too. Compared to that, any apology Link tried to give now would sound like the murmurings of a half-mad, drunk goat.

He could still try. “I’m sorry too. For being an idiot.” It didn’t sound like enough; she didn’t look at him. Half-desperately, Link took her arm. Puffy eyes turned to him. “What I said-”

“Was true,” she murmured. If it wasn’t melodramatic, he might’ve stabbed himself with the Master Sword right there and then.

“No. You saved my life. You did the best thing you could for me, for all of us. We got a second chance because of you.”

Link didn’t remember a forgiving princess. Maybe that had changed, or maybe it was just the exhaustion of the day, but Zelda didn’t put up much of a fight. She let Link pull her into a hug and buried her nose in his shoulder. Vaguely, he remembered her teasing him once or twice for his height. _You’re as short as I am!_ He didn’t care how much she teased him, as long as she let him hug her at the end of the day.

“Are we okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whispered, “Everything’s okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter is out early this week, whoo!  
> This is a bit of a transition chapter, but hey, brief combat! Combat isn't my strong suit, so please, tell me how I did with it here. Some of my beta readers expressed moments of confusion. I've tried to fix it, but if I didn't manage to clear it up, I'd love to know what would work better.
> 
> Not everything is a-okay now that Ganon is gone. The world is still a dangerous place, and there are still hurts left unhealed.
> 
> And something spooky is going on with Link's head.
> 
> Some Real World business: I am going on hiatus here on Ao3 for a few weeks. The story is not ending, and I will be writing during those weeks. I just need to create some distance between this site and myself. If you just can't wait for updates, I will continue to update this story on fanfiction.net as usual. Otherwise, I'll see you in a few weeks with Chapter 3. Thanks for sticking with me <3


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our duo travel, meet and talk to a figure named the Proxim Knight, and stumble upon the Dueling Peaks Tower.

By the time they reached the Dueling Peaks Stable, Link almost felt bored. His travels before had never been uneventful. There was always an ambushing Yiga, a group of monsters, or a guardian to fight, In between, there was a tower to climb, or there was a shrine to excavate. Barring those possibilities, Link sometimes found time to hunt and forage in the forests or fish and trap in the rivers. Every day, he felt an underlying urgency, a reminder that it was only a matter of time before the seal on Ganon broke.

Other than the surprise guardian, his travels with Zelda were peaceful. So peaceful that every rustling bush sent Link into a twitching fit. He tried to remind himself the quiet was good, safe. No such reminders kept him from holding his breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Zelda showed no such paranoia. She chattered the days away, making awkward silences impossible. She scolded him thrice more, twice about the shrines and once about the lynel. He didn’t bother arguing her point on either subject, especially because he agreed that approaching the lynel _had_ been a stupid idea. When facing a charging monstrosity carrying a huge sword, his initial reaction usually involved his legs, not a camera. He also didn’t want to explain that he and that same lynel reunited later, but at least then he came prepared with several hundred explosive arrows.

She didn’t harp on him for too long though. Zelda spent most of her time refamiliarizing herself with her country. A century usually wouldn’t have been long enough to change the environment drastically, but when the dawn of that century involved the destruction of a civilization, typical manmade landmarks altered or disappeared altogether. Neither of them spoke of East Post- what _had_ been East Post. All that remained of the trading town was moss-covered rubble. Link wondered for only a second what happened to the families living there. Zelda, instead, took interest in the black, stone protrusion to the south.

“Is it glowing?” she asked.

“Yes.” When she frowned at him, Link sighed. The shrine originally glowed orange, but since Link entered and completed its challenge, the runes glowed blue.

“What did you do to activate them?” Though they needed to cross the Proxim Bridge, Zelda began drifting past it, towards the shrine. Link grimaced. As much as Zelda deserved time to herself, he disliked the idea of delaying their journey to Kakariko. And the shrine made his skin crawl.

“I used the slate.”

“Yes, but how?” Frustration tinged her words. “I tried inserting the slate into the control panel a thousand times, and it refused to react at all. You must’ve done something more.”

Link shook his head. Every shrine he’d come across had glowed with the same orange light. From what he remembered of Zelda’s own attempts, all those shrines sat dark and dead. Link hadn’t done a thing differently, and yet the shrines had opened to him without a complaint. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up; he remembered the raspy, withered voices of the monks inside the shrines. _With your arrival, my duty is now fulfilled._ He didn’t want to remember any more; he definitely didn’t want Zelda inside. Sensing his sudden anxiety, Rhiannon went still, preparing for a fight that wasn’t coming.

Before she could leave the path entirely, Link reached out and tugged on Zelda’s cloak. She looked back, and he shook his head. Zelda’s brow furrowed. “Why? It won’t slow us down more than a day.”

How could he explain? He half-feared that telling her of the shrine’s danger would only capture her attention more. He hadn’t worried so much about the other scholars he’d met because none of them had a slate.

He could only manage a single word. “Please,” he murmured. It wasn’t an explanation at all. She tried to meet his eyes, but Link released her cloak and looked down at Rhiannon’s mane. Something churned tightly in his stomach. His grip tightened on the reins.

To his relief, Zelda passed him a second later, the sound of hooves meeting stone as she crossed onto the bridge. Judging by the stiffness of her shoulders, she wasn’t entirely happy about it, but at least she’d relented. This time. He’d have to figure out how to explain his aversion to the shrines before she discovered the one just up the hill from Kakariko Village. His mouth suddenly tasted sour. Was he really hiding things from her? These shrines were her passion, the very thing that had earned her friends and some semblance of freedom. How was it fair to drag her away from one because he felt paranoid?

_Wind blasted him from behind, powerful enough to sweep him off his feet. Link cried out as he shot over the edge, staring down into a seemingly endless abyss. He reached for his paraglider, for some control over his wild descent, only to slam into the side of the other platform. There was no time to succumb to the pain in his ribs; his hands clawed at the flat surface, desperately searching for any handhold. His nails cracked under the pressure. The wind beat against his back, laughing in his ears…_

Rhiannon bucked underneath him, and Link startled, the world snapping back into place. His horse trotted onwards, ears upright and forward as if she hadn’t acted out at all. _She didn’t._ Noticing his surging panic, she’d brought him back to the present. Link rubbed her neck in silent thanks.

“Is that a soldier ahead?” Zelda asked, further distracting him. “What is he doing out here all alone?”

A weathered man stood beside one of the stone firepits. Noticing the approaching party, he reached for his spear beside him and shaded his eyes with his free hand. Link relaxed in his saddle.

Zelda eyed Link curiously. “Do you know him?” Link shrugged. They’d shared a fire once after he accidentally frightened the guard. Since then, whenever Link passed by, the two exchanged supplies or simply waved in greeting. Brigo’s name traveled far more often than the man himself.

When they came within shouting distance, the man hailed them. “I almost didn’t recognize you, Link. Who is this fair lady?” Though he directed the question to Link, Brigo looked to Zelda for an answer. Others thought him eccentric, but Brigo caught on to a lot. He never demanded conversation from Link at all.

“I’m a friend,” Zelda told him. “Are there more soldiers guarding this bridge?”

Brigo snorted, adjusting his grip on his spear. “Soldiers? No, it’s just me here. I keep the bridge clear of monsters. And That Damn Thing.” He leaned and spat on the stones. Zelda raised a brow while Link hid a smile. While Zelda wasn’t ignorant of the “cruder” habits of swordsmen, those around her typically kept their language and behavior clean. Brigo didn’t even blink. Why should he? He wasn’t a Hylian Knight, trained to serve and obey the royal family. Even if he was, he had no way of knowing who Zelda was.

“That,” Zelda stumbled, “Thing?”

Brigo turned and pointed. “I’ve been keeping an eye on it since the towers rose. Hasn’t moved yet, but I won’t get complacent until That Damn Thing-” He spat, and this time Link joined him, “Is nothing more than dust.”

Zelda shot Link an incredulous look but quickly looked back to Brigo. “It’s broken. I’m sure you have nothing to fear from it, Sir…?”

Brigo’s long eyebrows furrowed over his dark eyes. “Brigo- just Brigo. No ‘sir’ involved. My grandfather was the knight, not me, and I don’t pretend to be what I’m not. I just wear the family heirlooms.” He rapped his knuckles against his chest. Under his makeshift hide vest, a rusted chainmail shirt rustled.

Zelda blinked. “Then why are you here? Do you not have a family to be with?” Link didn’t interrupt though he knew Brigo had two brothers and more than a few nieces and nephews. The man spoke of them wistfully, the sort of tone one took towards a life remembered sweetly… and turned away from.

“Proxim Bridge is one of the most important routes in Hyrule,” Brigo explained. “This bridge connects Necluda to the rest of the country. I chase off the monsters, make it safe to cross. You could go south to the Bridge of Hylia, go through Faron, but it’s swarming with monsters. There isn’t enough manpower to clear it off, much less keep it.” He cracked the butt of his spear against the stone. “Proxim? She’s mine- no monster’s going to look at her the wrong way.”

“That’s admirable,” Zelda admitted. “Who stationed you here?”

“Myself,” Brigo said.

“Oh… then is there a toll?”

“No,” Brigo snapped, offended by even the suggestion. The confusion was evident on Zelda’s face.

“Then what are you getting out of it? Surely _someone_ pays you?”

“Where did you pick her up?” Brigo asked Link with some exasperation. Without waiting for an answer, he said, “I don’t know where you come from, lady, but the only folk who get paid to guard work around the stables or the villages. I don’t get anything from this; I just do it because it needs to be done.”

From any other man, Link might’ve expected a puff of pride or some play for flattery. Brigo, however, said his words bluntly without any expectation of something in return. The Proxim Knight, as he’d been dubbed, stood on his bridge totally oblivious to the innate selflessness of his actions. Link saw the realization in Zelda’s eyes, watching her as she took in the meager supplies and exposed setting Brigo claimed as his own. The old boots and armor, the patchwork hide and leather clothes. Small blotches dotted Brigo’s chin and cheeks from where he’d cut himself shaving. Razor blades wore out, the stable was three days away, and traders were few and far in between, so Brigo often shaved with his carving knife. Link asked once why Brigo bothered to shave at all without a mirror or proper razor. After his initial shock that Link talked at all, Brigo explained that he didn’t feel worthy enough to wear his grandfather’s armor unless he did what he could to make himself presentable.

“Thank you,” Zelda said quietly, “For your service to your country.” Brigo blushed, but he waved his hand dismissively.

“None of that. You’d best be moving if the stable is your destination. Follow the road, beware of monsters, and all that.” He scowled. “Though any friend of Link’s probably knows that.”

“Link takes very good care of me.” Zelda glanced between the two men uncertainly. Before she could offend Brigo further by offering him supplies (or worse- money), Link started moving. She hesitated but not for long before Zelda followed, waving goodbye to Brigo. He settled back against the bridge wall with a wave of his own and a grimace.

Zelda surprised Link with her silence. She sat upright, her shoulders back in a proud manner, but her eyes focused on a spot between her mount’s ears. When deep in thought Zelda tended to mutter to herself, so this new quiet stood out.

It wasn’t until Proxim Bridge and its knight were mere pinpricks that Zelda spoke. “I didn’t know I could cast my consciousness beyond the castle.”

Link’s gaze snapped to her. They’d barely spoken about the Calamity, about her time imprisoning Ganon, about his struggles to rescue her. Her grip was loose, relaxed around the reins, but the rest of her body tensed, perhaps subconsciously.

“I felt you stir,” she said, voice even, devoid of emotion. “It shocked me at first. Other than _him_ , I hadn’t felt another presence since I directed my father to wait for you. I almost fled from my duty; I almost failed everyone.” She paused only a second before continuing. “I managed to maintain the seal, but I did start experimenting. Carefully because I did not want _him_ to catch any glimpse of you through me. I found that I could separate a sliver of myself safely, and so I latched onto you. I felt it when you woke, and I hoped that you heard my voice. I tried to guide you when I could. You gave me hope that there was an end, and I hoped that I granted you some semblance of the same comfort.”

“Yes,” Link whispered, “You did.” On the bleakest of nights, even when totally memory-less and alone, he knew someone waited for him. Needed him.

After another brief silence, Zelda nodded. “I’m glad, but I also find that I’m… frustrated with myself. It was only when my power began to wane that I extended myself to you. If I’d expanded my consciousness sooner, in the height of my power, perhaps I could’ve granted some hope and comfort to my people. Perhaps I would not be so ignorant of the state of my kingdom.” She lifted her eyes to the path before them, and Link saw the shadows in them. “How many more have suffered and sacrificed completely alone?”

_You_.

Link closed his eyes as the knowledge reverberated through him. Through his journey, he always had someone by his side. Impa, Purah, and Robbie, old friends who sparked his memory and worked tirelessly against Ganon. Teba, Riju, and Yunobo all faced the corrupted divine beasts by his side, risking their lives for and placing their faith in a man they barely knew. Prince Sidon defended him against the hatred of his own peers and fought to assist Link in every possible way. Countless others, like Brigo, helped him in small yet profound ways. And if there was no one else, Link always had Zelda to cling to.

She had fought back the Calamity for a century completely alone with no sure way of knowing whether anyone would come to rescue her.

Would telling her that be of any comfort? His stomach churned as he thought of the fallen champions. The chest he’d locked them into rattled within his soul, and he allowed himself to pull away the chains, laying a hand against the rough, unpolished wood. His grief, his shame, oozed across their memory like worms wriggling through a corpse. The logical part of him knew their deaths weren’t his fault, and yet the shame lingered.

No, Zelda’s shame couldn’t be waved away with something as distant and cold as logic. But it could be directed.

“The Sheikah wait for you,” he murmured, only barely loud enough to be heard over the clop of horses’ hooves. “Let’s prove their hope wasn’t misplaced.”

Zelda’s head turned towards him. He met her eyes, then forced himself to smile. “Then we do the same for the Zora.”

“And the Gorons, Rito, and Gerudo,” Zelda agreed with a quiet sigh. She reached up to brush a few stray blonde hairs behind her ears. “Hyrule can be rebuilt, and it must be for the good of the Hylians living here. Men and women like Brigo need to be given their just reward for their service.”

“Impressed, were you?” Link asked, quietly relieved that she managed to shove the shadows aside so quickly. They weren’t gone, but she functioned, and that was all Link could ask of her for the moment.

“I’m not sure if I should call him honorable or odd,” she replied dryly, “But either way he certainly deserves recognition. I’ll need more men like him; the army needs to be rebuilt so that we can reclaim Hyrule from the monsters’ claws. Perhaps I can wrangle Sir Brigo into a promotion.

Link snickered just imagining Brigo wearing a captain’s wings. Not that he wouldn’t deserve it; he probably fit the role _too_ well.

“You, on the other hand, deserve a _demotion_ ,” Zelda claimed grandly. “Becoming lax in your duties, displaying crude manners. Your insubordination acts as the condemning cherry on top!”

Link looked at her incredulously. _Insubordination? Since when?_

She smiled haughtily at him and raised a hand, fingers spread. “Mocking my royal steeds, allowing a guardian to threaten me, interfering with my research, spitting and swearing in my presence-” Link raised his own hand to argue that point, but Zelda cleared her throat pointedly. “Mental, muttered, and mouthed swearing still counts.”

He only barely held back an eyeroll, waiting patiently for his fifth wrongdoing. Zelda, however, simply put her hand down. He flashed his hand at her to get her attention and wiggled his pinky questioningly. Zelda smiled.

“I believe I told you to be cautious and safe; I have physical evidence you’ve disobeyed that order several times.” With that, she patted the Sheikah slate attached to her belt.

Link rolled his eyes this time, but as she laughed, he couldn’t help but smile.

They traveled onwards, entering the shadow of the grand Dueling Peaks a day after meeting Brigo. Summer approached quickly, and so the clouds gathered in the distance, preparing for the last of the spring showers. Grass tall enough to brush against Link’s hips blanketed the rolling hills. Yellow and white wildflowers sprang up in cheerful clumps. Leafy trees dotted the landscape like overeager mushrooms. Zelda gasped in delight when she saw the needle-like tower rising up before the face of the gray mountain, its blue runes a beacon for miles around.

Link didn’t hold the same aversion to the towers as he did the shrines, so when Zelda demanded to climb to the top of the structure, he had difficulty finding a reason to say no. At the eve of their third day of travel, they left the horses to graze at the bottom of the ancient tower and faced the climb.

Her eagerness faltered upon seeing the height. “Surely, there’s another way,” she mused. “You’ve activated the tower; otherwise, it wouldn’t appear on the map, right? It makes little sense that the ancients had no easier way of scaling their own towers. Defensively, the height gives them a massive sight advantage, but I imagine death by accidental tumbles would’ve made the towers inefficient.”

Link shrugged. He’d always climbed up and paraglided down.

“Give me a moment,” Zelda said, looking down at her slate.

Link didn’t argue, taking the time to tend to their horses. Arion gave a sigh of relief when Link unloaded the packs on his back; Link fed the stallion an apple for his troubles. Immediately, all three horses set to harassing Link for more treats. He laughed at their demands but relented before giving them a proper meal.

Zelda stood at the edge of the water, searching through the slate for any clues pointing to an easier ascent, but finally, she threw her hands up in defeat. “Fine,” she sighed, “For the pursuit of science, right?”

Link smirked at her as he hid their things in the rocks and grass. Securing a small backpack around his shoulders, he gestured to the tower. He’d climb below her; if she fell or slipped, he’d be there to catch her. Zelda swallowed nervously, but she rubbed her palms on her trousers and approached the tower wall. He didn’t know who was more nervous, Zelda or himself, but she managed to make the climb to the first platform without issue. While Link had to work to rebuild his strength after his sleep, she seemed slightly stronger than he remembered her. Maybe transcending had side-effects.

She only made the mistake of looking down once. “Oh, Hylia,” she breathed, clinging to the tower. Link gestured for her to keep climbing, but she whimpered. “This is much higher than I thought.”

“Almost there,” Link promised her.

“How are we going to get down?” He sighed. Of course she only considered that when they were two-thirds of the way up. He shifted upwards.

“Trust me,” Link told her. She swallowed again, but renewed determination took ahold of her. She faced the tower wall again.

And they climbed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back~!  
> Thanks to everyone who has stuck around.
> 
> BotW has a lot of fun, interesting NPCs. Brigo is definitely not the one people would name off the top of their head though, lol. I just found this random guard to be rather interesting, compelling even. He just sits all day guarding a bridge. Why? Just because!  
> He's a tad more important in this story ;)
> 
> Also... what in Hyrule is going on with those shrines...? Let's just say my interpretation of the ancient Sheikah is not as noble...
> 
> Comments and kudos are the lifeblood of the anxious author.


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link and Zelda stay the night atop the tower, reminisce together, and face the still healing wounds of their past.

“It’s… beautiful,” Zelda said, looking over the steadily darkening plains. She folded her arms, large eyes roaming over the horizon. They couldn’t watch the sunset with the mountains blocking the eastern sky, but they could mark its descent by the sky’s change in color. Lavender to indigo to black. While Hyrule was on the brink of summer, the air around them was cool, made brisk by the nightfall and the elevation. Far beneath them, water lapped against the side of the tower, creating a steady white noise in the background that had lulled Link to sleep a few times.

Link struck the flint in his hands, and sparks leapt off. They latched onto his small firepit, gobbling down dry leaves. Blowing gently on the small, candle-like flames, he managed to coax a relatively large, warm fire. Despite her shivering, however, Zelda didn’t seek the warmth of the fire. She remained standing on the edge, captivated by the sight of her kingdom.

_Which she should be_.

Pushing away his inner mother hen (though her clothes were _not_ warm enough- she was going to catch a cold), Link busied himself with the preparation of their camp. He propped a small pot over their fire and put together the beginnings of a warm soup.

_The vegetables are the most important part_ , a feminine voice whispered in his ear, _Your good meat won’t matter if your carrots aren’t cooked all the way through_. He hesitated in the middle of his work and almost sliced his thumb open. Who’d told him that? Not Zelda- she couldn’t fry an egg. He doubted any of the champions would’ve said such a thing to him. Link glanced at Zelda before shaking his head firmly. She had enough on her plate. She didn’t need to know Link still didn’t remember most of his life.

When the soup was underway, Link unrolled their bedrolls. He was glad he thought to bring an extra blanket up; at least Zelda would be warm throughout the night.

Zelda sat down when it became too dark to see anything. She reached for the pot, and Link batted her hand away. Giving him an amused look, she said, “Is it proper to smack your betters?”

He didn’t bother verbalizing a response and instead just wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. Her expression deepened, and he mentally cursed. _So much for not mothering._

Zelda pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “Maybe I’ve just missed your cooking,” she sighed. “Who knew that common stew could smell so divine?” She reached up, eyes still closed, and quickly unbraided her hair. The golden strands fell in waves around her face. Link had never seen anyone else with such bright hair; Zelda’s coloring in general was startlingly vibrant. Her skin seemed to glow; her eyes were simultaneously blue and green, leaning towards either color depending on the lighting or the colors she wore. Despite her relatively simple apparel, she looked like a goddess.

Funny how that worked out.

Link never thought he looked like a hero. Rather than tall and barrel-chested, he was short and lean. His hair looked dirty when it wasn’t, and he never cut it properly, always managing to make at least one area uneven. His ability to grow facial hair was notable in that it didn’t exist. It was hard to look in the mirror at the end of the day at his filthy, ragged, small-framed self and picture the sort of person that would be sung of for centuries to come.

Hadn’t that always been the irony? The princess born with Hylia’s blood in her veins, the princess who had spent her entire life preparing to wield that divine power, had failed to show any sign of it. Meanwhile, the midget knight from some backwater town had drawn the Master Sword by complete accident.

He remembered the searing looks, the bitter scowls, not just from Zelda who had every right to hate him, but from his fellow knights and peers. Even as names and faces slipped from his fingers, he remembered their jealousy, their indignation. Their hatred. And yet they still also expected their Hero. He could not live up to their expectations in appearance or background, and so he silenced his own anxieties and insecurities.

Destiny had not been fair to either of them.

“What are you thinking?” Zelda murmured. “I can feel you staring. Either there’s something on my face, or you’re deep in thought.”

Link stretched his legs out beside him, throwing a few more herbs into the pot and giving it a stir. The stew didn’t really need it, but it gave him a moment to think before he spoke. “Do you remember the good things?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, opening her eyes. The fire flickered in them. How many times had Link seen her with her hair totally down? Once. Twice. She’d always waited to relax until she escaped into her tent, free from his “dull stare” as she’d once called it. He suddenly couldn’t meet her eyes. His question seemed stupid now, dangerously hinting at his lapse of memory.

“The good things,” Link repeated lamely, “What made you happy, friends…” he trailed off as he realized how poor his judgement was. Bringing up the past, something they’d both lost, couldn’t have been more tone deaf.

“Yes,” she replied. “Some of it is bittersweet, knowing what I do. My friends are all in the last years of their lives… if they have not passed on already?” The question in her voice was slight, more a show of uncertainty than everything. He’d discovered that while Zelda had “watched” over him, she definitely hadn’t caught everything. She described the people and places around him as a blurry picture. Sometimes, briefly, she heard voices, but they were often so distorted and distant that she couldn’t understand them at all.

Link chose his words carefully. “Impa lives; she has a granddaughter- Paya. Robbie’s married with a son. Purah…” he struggled to find the right words. “Is still Purah.”

Zelda smiled weakly. “And here we hoped she’d grow up at least a little.” Link wondered how Zelda would react to the truth. Out of the three Sheikah, Purah was the eldest, and yet a “failed” experiment had left her younger than them all physically. Neither Purah nor Symin could say how that would affect Purah long-term. Perhaps with Zelda’s help, they’d find a definitive answer.

Unprompted, Zelda continued, slowly unlacing her boots. “I can’t remember my mother’s face- I couldn’t before the calamity -but I remember Urbosa’s. She was the closest I had to a mother, and she was my friend. I remember her encouragement, her laughter. Do you know how many times she locked horns with my father? For me?” Link winced at the suggestion, and Zelda smiled faintly. “Every servant and soldier swore the castle would crumble. My father didn’t have magic like her, but he was strong…” she trailed off. “But you know that.”

He knew, but he wanted to hear it anyways. When Zelda spoke, she solidified memories that otherwise quivered like loosely tied flags on a windy day.

“I remember spending day after day with the Sheikah, studying their ancient technology, trying to figure out how it ticked. Impa noticed me watching; she’s the one who introduced me to Purah and Robbie. Even though they were older, smarter, they accepted and valued me.” Zelda pulled her boots free, massaging sore, socked feet. “Yes, they were a little strange, but they loved what I loved- things no one else seemed to understand at all.”

“I never got to know all the Champions very well, other than Urbosa, of course. Daruk and Mipha were always more your friends than mine. I actually strongly disliked Mipha at first.” At Link’s surprise, Zelda laughed ruefully. “She didn’t deserve it. Like you, Mipha reminded me of everything I should’ve been and yet wasn’t. She was compassionate, forgiving, and gentle. Thoughtful in her words and actions. She loved her people and knew them intimately. And _she_ had complete control over her power.”

Link fought not to glance down. While he left the scale armor folded away in Hateno, he’d taken to wearing one of the thinner chains around his wrist. It felt wrong not to have some piece of it with him.

“I do remember that last week,” she murmured. “You all traveled with me to the Spring of Wisdom… all so hopeful that I would finally attain my power. You cooked for us all. Mipha and Daruk swapped stories, Urbosa sat with her arm around me…” Zelda laid a hand on her heart, closing her eyes as she spoke. “You sat between Mipha and I. I remember that Revali stalked away. I wanted to take him some food, but you always insisted on following me, and, well-”

“He doesn’t like me,” Link muttered. Zelda looked at him, raising a brow.

“That dislike went both ways. You two were equally pig-headed.” At Link’s scowl, Zelda rolled her eyes. She readjusted the blanket around her shoulders and leaned forward, propping her head against her legs. “It doesn’t matter. Yes, I remember the good things.”

She smiled at him faintly, and this time Link met her eyes. He didn’t know what she saw in his face; he didn’t know if she recognized any of his confusion or worry, brooding or exhaustion. Maybe she didn’t see any of it because the longer she smiled at him, the more it all seemed to fade away.

“I get to keep some good things too,” she murmured.

When the stew finished, they ate together beside the fire. Their conversation dwindled to the scraping of spoons against bowls and Zelda’s pleased noises. It didn’t need to be anything more; what was said satisfied Link enough. Even if he didn’t remember the moments she described, she did. He recalled something Impa told him, far back in the beginning of his journey. _Zelda’s memories are your own._

Link watched her as she fell asleep, her breaths lengthening and slowing. The embers of the fire burned low by the time he finally closed his eyes to sleep.

* * *

A scream sliced through the air.

Link jolted awake, a thousand horrors jumping to mind at the nightmarish sound. He didn’t stop to think. He grabbed the Sword and rolled to his feet, ready to face whatever threat presented itself.

Zelda convulsed on her cot, another terrified scream ripping from her throat. No enemy stood over her. No beast bared its teeth.

Immediately, Link dropped his sword. He rushed to her side, grabbing her shoulders. Sweat soaked through her clothes. Still caught in the claws of the nightmare, she thrashed violently in his grip. Her hand caught his jaw, and Link grunted. For a moment, he couldn’t tell if he was holding her down or pulling her up. He cried her name, once, twice.

Zelda grabbed a fistful of his tunic with a sharp gasp. The two of them stared at each other, the moon’s light flickering across pale faces. He expected her to jerk away at any moment, to insist she was alright, and he needed to go back to sleep now. Even as he pulled her into his arms, he waited for her rejection to come.

Instead, she buried her face into his shoulder with a sob. “I don’t want to go back,” she blubbered. He shushed her gently, pulling her closer. Her entire body trembled like leaf with sobs and remaining adrenaline. Between her sobs, she mumbled near incoherently. Link stroked her hair and tried not to shake or cry too. When he heard her scream… Whatever relief he felt at her safety was dashed by the broken sounds she now made.

“It’s over,” Link whispered to her. “We killed him, remember?” He’d never leave her alone again. Even if the golden goddesses themselves came to take her, Link would never let her endure that kind of torture again.

But how could he protect her from her own dreams? He was no safer from nightmares than she was.

Pushing the thought aside, Link focused on making low, soothing sounds. He wasn’t quite sure what would help her, but he’d found that quiet and calm sounds comforted him. Whenever he heard the cattle lowing at the stables, he drifted right back to sleep. Could he say something? _No, I’ll probably just make her cry more_. Without any other ideas, Link simply hummed tunelessly to her, held her, and stroked her hair.

He didn’t know how much time passed before her tears started to slow. She slumped against him, sniffling noisily. Still, she didn’t pull away. Link didn’t pause in his humming, didn’t think about what notes to connect for what melody. Either it didn’t sound too bad, or Zelda was too out of it to complain.

At her tenth wet sniffle, Link finally said, “You can wipe your nose on my shirt.” Zelda made a soft sound between a laugh and a whimper. She shook her head, so Link reached back to grab his bag.

Zelda grabbed his arm. “No,” she rasped, “Don’t let go of me.”

To his bemusement, she obeyed his suggestion and quickly rubbed her nose on his shirt. Instead of shrugging him off, Zelda leaned her head against his shoulder. “Just hold me,” she whispered.

He couldn’t refuse. When Zelda went to sleep for the second time that night, she did so cradled in the arms of her knight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a shorter chapter. Unfortunately, work has made it increasingly difficult to write. I'm barely getting in work on my novel, much less SKFP. I'm hoping to at least maintain a bi-monthly update.
> 
> A filler chapter, but we get to plot next time. I'm not sure I'm happy with how I wrote this chapter either. It feels messy, even rushed to me.
> 
> Also, I apologize for the formatting. Sometimes it formats my paragraphs, and sometimes it doesn't. It's a pain to fix.

**Author's Note:**

> A short prologue for what is to come...  
> I just barely finished Breath of the Wild for the first time. Yes, I'm late, but I managed to play with zero spoilers, something I'm still shocked by. I love the characters and world in this LoZ installment, but I was very disappointed by the lack of a kiss (or even just a hug) in the ending cutscene. So, I'm fixing it. Of all things to bring me back into fanfiction, this should be a good one.  
> I have no idea how long this story will be, but I'm looking forward to writing it. Rating is M for now. Things won't become explicit, but they may toe the line, sooo...  
> Constructive criticism is always welcome and begged for.


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